His Butler Thoughts and musings
by Ein Teufel
Summary: What if you were to get to know the butler of Phantomhive to every detail? What if one were to observe his movements, every last one, and know the thoughts behind each? Welcome to the mind of Sebastian Michaelis. Rated for insinuated intercourse and gore.
1. Learn not to hide

_* Quote belongs to: __s/5693877/1/Lies_

**AN: **I do not own Kuroshitsuji or the characters contained within. Quotes belong to their respective authors, and I've done my best to put credit where it is due. Once more this series goes out to My Lord, may he find it at least mildly entertaining.

_**-  
"I have always thought it would be a blessing if each person could be blind and deaf for a few days during his early adult life. Darkness would make him appreciate sight; silence would teach him the joys of sound." -Hellen Keller.  
-**_

Ten thousand years, not a day. Ten thousand years, at least. Darkness was his world. Darkness was everything he knew, and everything he was. He appreciated sight well. Too well. Too observative. Missing nothing. Always catching even the slightest detail, the most minute twitches of his Master's skin, eyes, fingers...Even the Young Lord's toes were not ignored. His observing nature made him seem...Psychic. As though he could see straight through the mind of the boy, inside, outside, upside down and backwards. This was hardly the case, however, as the child still seemed to surprise him upon a daily basis. Each and every time it brough a cold, sly smile to those thin lips, baring those glitteringly white teeth.

As for silence... The quiet was as detailed a sentence as the loud. Words spoke, actions spoke thousands of words, and silence spoke trillions. In listening to him speak, he could whittle away at the little inflections, the minute sounds, the catching of breath, the hard swallows, the whispers, the shouts, the sharp catch in his voice when he was angry... Oh but the silence. The way those mismatched eyes moved for a mere moment uncomfortably when silence first fell. The confident glare they held when it continued. Always determined to overcome the silence, not with noise, no, but wish sheer determination not to allow it to fester upon his mind. The Young master was so calm, yet so turbulent. It was utterly fascinating.

_**-**_  
"_**The first breath is the beginning of death." -Proverbial Saying**_.  
_**-**_  
The first breath. The first catch of that scent. The untamed beast standing before the cage. Not a care in any world for the other useless beings in the room-only one mattering. Only one he would drag his claws across, into, ripping tearing killing savouring. The only one he would even consider sliding that dark tongue across. Whose blood would be his undoing. Whose eyes-those wide, unafraid, almost perfect eyes (For they were not marked then)-could merely narrow and control the uncontrollable. Whose breath was the very lifeblood of the demon. Late nights of leaning very cautiously over the sleeping form, just for a small taste. The smallest intake of breath, like smelling the cake before it is removed from the oven. Just the most minute hint of flavor before the feast. He would have that one. None other. Ever.

...And it would be the end of him, in time.  
_**-**_  
_**"What is Love but the Demon inside? Or an Angel, with play on his mind?" -John A**_.  
_**-**_  
He certainly no angel. Incomparable to even the fallen sort, for he was not insane as they were. He was wise, cunning, and manipulative. He could wind his words and ways about the ideal of Love. It was all too possible, all too easy to have the child think he was loved. To have the boy pondering rather than doing his work over such the word. It was too easy, too fun, to watch the boy writhe in the intimate throwes of his 'love' his passion, his was a demon, after all. Demons felt not love. They felt nothing of it, knew not what it truly was... It was so opposing of their nature, that should one truly feel it, it would destroy him or her. Yet, he played it well enough. Played the desires, the wantings, the command of those wanton sounds slipping from those soft lips. He played the word 'Love' perfectly...

Until the day it struck him with a sound.  
_**-**_  
_**"...silence would teach him the joys of sound." -Hellen Keller. **_  
_**-**_  
...And this sound would teach him the joys of silence.

It was confused for the watch. Though not kept in the breast pocket, an odd sensation that was. Some sort of fluke. A mere fluke and nothing more. It was just oddity that lead him to feel the ticktickticktick of his watch from his waistcoat to his bosom. It was merely that, and nothing more. And that is precisely why he crushed the watch one day. Hellfire staring down, thinned pupils in a silent, calm rage, upon the accursed noise maker. But it continued. Oh, then it was some other timepiece in the mansion, and must be dealt with immediately. Each one was shattered and put back in place, each and every one while his Master was busy with work. Every antique, every modern, every. Last. Ticking. Thing. If they did not tick, he would not feel it. He would not feel that maddening thing at his chest. It was like a bird, pecking upon his bones. The irony.

All of them destroyed. Every one. And the sound remained. It was not. It would not be. It could not be. There was no possible way.  
_**-**_  
_**"A lie told often enough...becomes truth." -Unknown**_.  
_**-**_  
He'd certainly said it enough times. He'd shown it enough times. It was said that he did "..not lie, as human's did." * Though he did lie. And that falsehood had become his undoing. His bane. He was not human...Though he was no longer demon. He denied it for days, weeks, months. Continuing the lie, though now even the boy had realized the hesitation.  
The pause before the words. The odd happenings. The strange ways his familiar demon had been acting out as of late. Why would this creature, so perfect and so forward, have reason to hesitate upon anything? Especially something Ciel had so thoroughly picked apart, and knew every detail of? The young man knew, with every bone, that this creature was pretending. Why not play along? Was it not the demon's intent to season his meal before devouring? Taste your own, devil.  
He was becoming questionable, and the one finally broke him. The Earl had a fondness for asking questions that implied they were about the butler, but were actually of the creature beneath the mask. It was one final question that broke him. An uncharacteristic fall, an embrace that confused the one who performed it as much as it did the one receiving. Then there were the strange flutterings. He would forever deny the existence of such a feeling, but the child felt it. Even with the demon upon his knees, chest was pressed to stomach, and there was no denying what had been felt by one, even as the other did deny it.

At first it was a taunt. A scare tactic used against the butler... Until it was realized that the feeling did not occur of the demon's control. That was to say, he had not created the movement in his chest. He had not manipulated the immitation of a heartbeat. It was there. Honestly, truly.  
_**-**_  
_**"A heart's a heavy burden." -Howl's Moving Castle.**_  
_**-**_  
It was a burden. It was a weight upon his daily tasks. It was an all-encompassing chore to carry around. Resentment had built upon it, toward it. He loathed its existence more than the light above the world. There was even a morning where he was late, _late_, in preparing breakfast. The time-perfect, punctual and ever perfect Sebastian Michaelis was once delayed a full three minutes in his morning duties. Why, you ask? Certainly you do. Dark nails had dug into fake flesh, lengthy claws gouged at dark feathers and beak penetrated inhuman bones and tore at flest, ripping, tearing, clawing, cawing, shaking, molting, biting, gnawing. He had attempted to remove it, with no avail. There was no physical trace within the false flesh. None either within the true form of the beast. It was deeper than flesh. Deeper than those talons could reach. He was stuck with it.

Healing the skin he moved about in daily was easy. Healing himself was no simple feat. There was excess cleaning involved for days. Perfectly cared for, and went unknown to the young Lord. Mismatched eyes did not see, button nose did not smell, nor did small ears hear of the calamity that had occurred.  
He would never know of his demon's attempt at ripping out it's own heart.  
_**-  
"Acceptance and tolerance and forgiveness, those are life-altering lessons. " **_  
_**-**_  
Tolerance was easily mastered, eons before the boy. Forgiveness was not something he had to learn. It was a concept that did not even occur to him, for the matter of humanity such as 'forgiveness' and 'revenge' were merely things to manipulate with, not be manipulated by. But, Oh, Acceptance. That was a hard lesson to learn.

Once learned, however, it could be used. He accepted this 'love' this 'heart' within him, and used it to a new advantage. Or, rather, tried.

He attempted to use it to increase the boy's pleasure. To further that wickedly wonderful, poisonously flavorful scent that fell from those lips upon that breath. That did not last, either. It was seen through. Ciel was all the wiser in some aspects, much to the demon's amazement. In time it was accepted, and it was allowed to let grow. In time, it changed the two, barely, almost unnoticeably. The servants did not realize any difference. The guests had no clue. The butler knew, and as did the Earl... And it was a secret they would take to their graves... Or, rather, one would. The other kept a new lie for quite some time; that it was Sebastian Michaelis, and not the demon that felt the new sensation.

That secret was undone in time, as well.  
-End Ch 1-


	2. Into the shadows

**AN: **_As with chapter one, I do not own Kuroshitsuji, those rights belong to Yana Toboso. Quotes were credited as best as I could credit them. I do not know when Chapter 3 will be out, that depends entirely upon when My Lord wishes it to be finished. Until then, Please enjoy chapter 2. I apologize for this being shorter than the last. _

-Begin Ch2-

_**"If you keep hiding your true self, your life becomes like a slow death. Once you become free from the lies and the hiding of yourself, then life becomes vibrant again."**_  
_**-**_  
It was horridly difficult. Or, rather, it was becoming increasingly so. To hide, that was. It was becoming more and more difficult with each passing day, each love-filled evening (As fake as he'd try to believe that 'love' was.) The more he acted upon the physical whims of the boy, the more he found himself enjoying it. That was to say, rather than it being a mere physical happening, he found himself being drawn in. It was no longer happiness in such a simple thing as one would find in the joy of soft grass, warm sunlight, or even the wonders of a summer's evening. No it was not merely a physical enjoyment of the act any longer. Each time it was done, each time the mere act completed, He found himself in strange thoughts. Wanting it not to end. Wanting to be closerclosercloser. Being one with the boy physically was not enough. It was now some burning desire deep within his damnable chest to be as close as physics would allow, and closer.

It started with connecting the seals together during the act. Thrusting in, groaning heavily and gliding his left palm over the uncovered right eye. Once or twice doing that during their copulations did that very act push him straight over the edge, right passed his nearly perfect control. It was something no other human had ever done. No once had any other creature, for that matter, human or demon alike, ever _ever_made him lose control over something he thought so...controllable.

In time this simple loss of control, this simple need to be closer started to eat him. It was like a festering wound deep within his bosom. Like some sort of spike had lodged itself within, unable to be torn away, infecting itself and the flesh around it, rotting his sanity away slowly. It was tearing at him. A need to be closer, to be unclothed was not enough. To be touching was not enough. To be within the boy and to have his name etched upon that violent violet iris was not enough.

One evening a simple inquiry from the boy threw him into a state of shocked realization.  
"Sebastian...What is your name?"  
"_My name is Sebastian Michaelis, My Lord. Did you yourself not name me thus?"  
_"No... I want your _name. _Before you were Sebastian, you were something else."  
"_Every one of my Masters has had a name for me." _  
"I don't want those names."  
A short chuckle was given, _"It is growing late, Young Master. Allow me to prepare your bath."_

He'd dodged it. At least once, though he would not continue to dodge that bullet for very long.

It was not _Sebastian _who wished to be closer. It was not the butler seeking to be with his master, no. It was the demon within.

This thought eased him for some time. Quite some time. Things were far easier when he finally admitted that he himself wished to be with the human child.

_**-**_  
_**"And I don't want the world to see me, cus I don't think that they'd understand." **_

A truth he never wanted the boy to see. A hidden part of himself that he wished those mismatched eyes never to fall upon. Ciel was smart, he was no ignorant boy. He'd long since figured out that the demon loved him. He'd long since known that the devil wished to be closer...and one day the young master acted upon it.

It was inbetween the soft groans, the mewling cries, gentle huffs and the pleasured moans that he finally studdered out, _"J-jus-ah... Just sh-show yoursel-Se-sebah- nnng" _

It gave the demon effective pause. Long enough to almost kill the moment they shared. Almost.  
He continued, shaking his head, long bangs swaying, punctuating his denial.

"_I'm n-not asking-H-hah... Nng" _The boy always had a hard time speaking in moments like this, "_I'm saying you can... d-dont be a-ah-afraid.." _

Did it really boil down to that? Did it come down to fear? Yes. It did. For a being that feared nothing, he actually feared this... He'd chance it. Merely for the sake that this was the one human being he trusted beyond simply contract. The demon did trust this small creature beneath him. His entire being belonged to him-and not just the shadow of a butler, but the vile thing he was beneath it, too.

It started with the shifting of his aura, the air around him darkening. At first he could hear the young master's heart racing frantically, a fear sending chills down the young man's spine. But as soon as it was there, it was gone, which surprised the devil to no end. This boy was always full of surprises. Never the typical human specimin. The air thickened behind him, shadows turning solid. His burgundy eyes brightening, crimson, red, vermillion, hellfire. So red they were nearly orange. Pupils thinned. A heart raced within a small chest, breathing frantic-but that was not fear. No, for some strange reason that excited the other. How.. peculiar. Moreso that his own heart matched the quick rhythm. He'd not shown his true form since the day they'd met, and even then, he had shrouded himself in shadows much darker than the eye could see through.

Large, dark feathers formed in the air behind the butler, forming slowly great wings. It was the most of his true form he'd ever show. The closest he would allow himself to get. And it was fantastic.

It led later to questions. Things like "Why _wings_" and "Has anyone else seen you like that?" ... The Young Master was quite wonderful with less verbally direct and more very accurate questions as well. Questions revolving around why he was using twelth-century English when he first appeared. Whether or not he was fond of poetry. Why it was that the boy was to study so much literature rather than mathematics or science. What led the demon to be so fascinated with writing and reading? and why was the boy so fond of finding little black feathers in the garden when he thought the butler did not see. The young master had a new fondness for Aviary study, again, assuming the butler would not notice. How silly it was, really, to think that merely his wings would identify him as something. What was the young master really after? He had his answer soon enough.

"You always get _cuddly _after we quarrel."  
_" 'Cuddly', Young Master?"  
_It was a mismatched glare late one evening before the fireplace that brought his now nearly ever-present grin back to those wide thin lips.  
"You know what I mean, Sebastian, don't play the idiot." The boy seemed chagrined for even mentioning the word.  
_"I do not, My Lord, please inform me." _Fascade ever unchanging, the perfect butler, and nothing more.  
"You are more affectionate."  
_"You are trying to prove something..."  
_"The day we met, you presented me with a huge banquet befitting a king."  
_"Hmm? I did."  
_"And you are almost always showing off."  
_"How observative my Master is. I am merely doing my job correctly."  
_"Corvus Magna."

_"Pardon?"  
_"A raven."  
_"I am aware of the scientific name." _  
"You said 'The' ...Not 'Their'." He found himself quite proud, sitting up, small stature feeling quite bigger than the butler's.  
_"I do not get what you are driving at, My Lord."  
_"You're a raven, are you not?"  
He smiled, wide, catily as always. _"Are you drawing this from your books, My Lord? You've studied them quite well. Perhaps you should put that much effort into your Latin studies."  
_Chagrin and anger took him for a moment, just long enough for the boy to lose his edge. The fight was over for now... But he never lost. Ciel never lost, and the demon was far too aware...

The devil was very aware of how 'far too close' to the truth the boy was.  
Now it was just a matter of whether or not Sebastian felt secure in having the human child know.

-End Ch.2 -


End file.
